


Half in the Shadows, Half Burned in Flames

by intothenowhere



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Slow Burn, Strangers to Lovers, The Framework Universe (Marvel)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-23
Updated: 2018-06-23
Packaged: 2019-05-27 13:55:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,037
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15026099
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/intothenowhere/pseuds/intothenowhere
Summary: All his life, Leopold Fitz has only known one thing: Hydra. It’s his father’s life, and the legacy Fitz is expected to carry on; a legacy, and a burden, Fitz never wanted. But when the position of Head Biochemist is filled by the mysterious Jemma Simmons, Fitz’s life turns upside down.





	Half in the Shadows, Half Burned in Flames

**Author's Note:**

> "No light, no light in your bright blue eyes,  
> I never knew daylight could be so violent.  
> A revelation in the light of day, you can't choose what stays and what fades away." - Florence and the Machine, "No Light, No Light"
> 
> It all started with those few lyrics, and a mile long headcanon was written, and somehow this fic came into existence. The idea of a Framework AU has always fascinated me, but I could never come up with the right concept for it.
> 
> In case anyone is worried about any triggering content, please note that Aida and Fitz are not "together" in any capacity in this fic; Fitz is the Doctor, but not the one we know from the show. He is not as merciless, and he does not torture people; he is, however, the Head Engineer, and is still feared by Hydra and the public, for spoiler-y reasons.
> 
> Many thanks to Nikki (@jemmasimmouns on Tumblr, give her a follow) for betaing this fic and creating the most beautiful [aesthetic](https://leopoldjamesfitz.tumblr.com/post/175185721363/half-in-the-shadows-half-burned-in-flames-all) for it, as well as massively supporting me; also thanks to Adrienne (@agentlemons) for liveblogging her reactions to me because I haven't stopped screeching, and thank you Kris (my url twin, @leopoldjamesfitzs), for supporting me and yelling at me for this fic.

****

All his life, Leopold Fitz had only known one thing: Hydra. It was his father's life, and the legacy Fitz was expected to carry on; a legacy, and a burden, Fitz never wanted.

 

His mother left when he was only ten years old, but the values she'd fought to teach him (which she paid for) were still etched into his mind, and every sentence out of Alistair Fitz's mouth, every lie Hydra told to the press, every order Fitz was given, went against the code his mother had given him so long ago, that he fought daily to keep hidden, otherwise he'd end up like all the other "traitors" - dead in a ditch in the middle of nowhere.

 

He'd gotten good at it, too. Well enough that his colleagues, the public, and Madame Hydra all fell for it. To them, he wasn't a conflicted young man, he was the cruel, calculating Doctor, who watched and did nothing as Hydra's worst torturers helped... _encourage_ Inhumans while he and Hydra's fellow scientists tried to gather enough information.

 

(Their screams kept him awake at night, and often he wondered if he was any less guilty than the torturers.)

 

Fitz sometimes found it hard to look in the mirror. The suits tailored perfectly to him, all colorless sharp lines and no personality, the undercut...it was so _Hydra_ it made him sick to his stomach.

 

Fitz ducked away from his reflection, drumming his fingers against his thigh. "Pull yourself together, Fitz." He muttered, "New partner today, remember?" 

 

The report had fallen (i.e: was thrown) into his lap last Monday by Melinda May. Since the abrupt departure of their former biochem department head (out of the top story window, after failing Madame Hydra one time too many), they'd undergone a sweep of the world's best and brightest - and they'd finally found it.

 

Simmons, Jemma. Former S.H.I.E.L.D. Academy student, survived the fall, and - perhaps wisely, since most S.H.I.E.L.D. agents were hunted down and slaughtered - joined Hydra.

 

She was joining him in his lab today, as part of the merging of the engineering and biochem departments. Which he really didn't mind, maybe having someone else there would put an end to Madame Hydra's unwanted advances.

 

Fitz only hoped she would be a bearable partner.

 

   

* * *

 

She was waiting for him in his office.

 

Fitz faltered when he stumbled through the doorway - juggling several folders, a to go cup of coffee, and his keys made entering more difficult than necessary - as his eyes fell on her.

 

She was small in frame, but there was something  _big_ about her presence, like she was more than what what her soft exterior suggested, which proved to be true as soon as she spoke.

 

"Have you got a match?" Jemma Simmons asked dryly, quirking a single eyebrow. 

 

A single folder fell from his arms, papers scattering across the floor. "Sorry?"

 

To his surprise, she laughed as she stood from her seat in his favorite armchair. "It's a saying my father loved. If someone has their hands full, ask them for something as if they have a free hand."

 

She reached out, carefully tugging away the remaining folders in his arms to avoid any further catastrophies, quickly depositing them on his desk, before moving to help him gather the first and - thankfully only - casualty of his entrance, off the carpeted floor.

 

"I take it you're Jemma Simmons," he said, slipping papers into a neat stack. Though he phrased it as a question, there was no doubt in his mind who this woman was.

 

"I take it you're the Doctor," Jemma replied casually, and there it was - the familiar sinking of his heart, as his traitorous mind reminded him that to her, to everyone in this building, he was not just an engineer, he was Hydra's best (and worst).

 

_Please, call me Fitz,_ he silently begged, even as he gave a grim smile - an automatic response now - and answered, "That's me, yeah."

 

Jemma nodded, her expression darkening as quickly as the summer sky before a storm. She knew his reputation, and either loathed him already, or feared him -

 

No, he thought, catching the glint in her eye, like the edge of a scapel. Not afraid.  _Determined._ For what, he hadn't the foggiest.

 

She gave him a bright smile that tugged at the corner of his mind, like he'd gone without something crucial for years and was only just now getting it back. "Shall we get started?" She asked, motioning at the folders that were filled with his itinerary for the week.

 

"Yeah," he muttered distantly, his head rather fuzzy. "High ho, off to work we go."

 

 

* * *

 

No file could do Jemma Anne Simmons justice, something Fitz continued to learn on a daily basis.

 

She was an odd bird, curious to the point that she often forgot about safety precautions; she had a dry wit that often had him in stitches - the first time it happened was around midnight on her twelfth day there. Fitz had commented how they needed to finish up on the serum Madame Hydra ordered, before they ran out of time. Jemma replied back, "Wouldn't want to become acquainted with her bad side, especially as a biochemist."

 

Despite the darkness of the joke, Fitz had been unable to keep a straight face and laughed outright. The noise had surprised Jemma so much she nearly dropped the beaker she was holding, until she began laughing, too.

 

Working with Doctor Doctor Jemma Simmons (Fitz fought a smile as he shuffled through the halls of the Triskelion, thinking of the lecture he'd been given about the nickname and how it wasn't at all correct) was as effortless as breathing; laughing with her was as familiar as taking something apart to learn how it worked. Fitz, for the first time in years, felt alive.

 

It showed, too. 

 

More than one Hydra officer stopped to gawk at him whenever they caught him smiling; May sized him up when he entered his lab wearing a brightly colored, patterned tie with his personality-less suit.

 

And he didn't care.

 

He felt unstoppable.

 

And he supposed, looking back on things, he should've realized it wouldn't have lasted.

 

 


End file.
